


“There are some things I haven’t tried yet. I suppose it’s possible I’m not very good at those.”

by PickledOnions



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: DIY, FCN, Fandot Creativity, Gen, IKEA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-04 01:22:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12760224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PickledOnions/pseuds/PickledOnions
Summary: for prompt: IKEA(fcn 18/11/17)





	“There are some things I haven’t tried yet. I suppose it’s possible I’m not very good at those.”

Douglas stared hopelessly at the rows of tiny, incomprehensible diagrams on the so-called ‘instructional’ manual. The only thing it appeared to be instructing him to do was give up and go back to buying furniture that came all in one piece. He picked up the box of screws, the box of smaller screws, and the box of- what the hell were they?- and gazed pleadingly at them, as if they would suddenly leap from the boxes and slot themselves correctly into the bits of laminate chipboard that had advertised themselves as a desk.  
He gave up, and called Martin.  
-  
“Well, did it come with the right sort of drillbit?”  
Douglas sifted through the various pins and bolts and other bits of shaped metal.  
“I don’t know.”  
“What do you mean, you don’t know? Is there a bit that goes in the front of your drill, or not?”  
Douglas tried to remember when he’d last seen a drill in his own hands. He supposed he’d had to put a painting up at some point- but perhaps that was a hammer and nails. If he had, at any point, owned a drill, it certainly hadn’t made the move over to this new, small, bare flat. Most of his things had not.  
At this moment, he particularly lamented the loss of his desk.  
There was an audible sigh from the phone, as Martin apparently realised the reason for his silence.  
“I’m coming over. What’s the address?”  
Douglas wanted to argue that no, he shouldn’t come over, because no, he didn’t need his help. He was omnicapable Douglas Richardson, and a stupid Swedish desk wasn’t going to take him down…  
He gave Martin the address.  
-  
When Martin arrived with his van, armed with an impressively comprehensive toolbox full of all the right sort of things, the first thing he did was laugh.   
Douglas folded his arms, watching him take in the failed task. “Are you quite done?” he asked calmly, after a good few minutes of this.  
Martin cleared his throat. “Right. Yes. Sorry.”  
“Good. So-“  
More giggles. Douglas glared.  
“Okay, okay, sorry! It’s just… I can’t believe you’ve gone your whole life without putting together any IKEA furniture. I mean- how is that possible?”  
“Are you going to help, or just make fun of me?”  
“Oh, come on. I deserve this. After how much you’ve made fun of me, over the tiniest things, and now it turns out you can’t do basic D.I.Y?”  
“I have never needed to D.I.M. Other, more qualified people have D-ed I for M. That’s the whole point of buying things- that you don’t have to D anything Y.” Douglas objected indignantly.  
“Well, don’t think I’m just going to DI for Y.”  
“You’re not?”  
“No. Hand me the manual. It’s high time you learned this sort of thing.”  
Douglas groaned, half-regretting inviting him over.  
-  
However, as Martin patiently taught him how to interpret what the diagrams were asking of him, and, subsequently, how to do those things, it didn’t seem so bad. He only laughed at him every ten minutes or so, and all the while they chatted as usual: Martin telling some anecdote about the King of Sweden, Douglas pondering on the origins of flat-pack furniture, Martin stopping to google that thing about flat-pack Norman castles because ‘there’s no way you didn’t just make that up’. Many kettles were put on- quite a few were then forgotten about and left to go cold.  
After an hour or so, the desk was done, and both of them- but particularly Douglas- felt very proud of their achievement.  
Trying to work out how to do this alone, and, no doubt, reflecting on and moping about the reasons he had to be doing it at all, would’ve been a thoroughly miserable ordeal. With Martin’s help, though, it was a satisfying- perhaps, even, enjoyable- experience.   
Over the next few months, Douglas bought several more things from IKEA for his flat, even when he didn’t absolutely need to. Martin was fully aware of this, but dragged his toolbox over every time.


End file.
